"Wake up, Azazel. We need to talk."
"Just a few more minutes…"
Mike groaned and turned over, trying to get more rest. Life was already hard enough, and now, after that explosion, he was sure he was in a hospital. He just wanted to sleep and recover.
"Wake up. Now."
Suddenly, the darkness around him shattered, and his consciousness was forced into awareness. His eyes darted around in confusion.
"Who? What? Where?" he stammered, trying to make sense of what had just happened. But the moment he saw the figure before him, panic set in.
What stood before him wasn't human. It wasn't even something he could describe properly. A demon? A devil? Some ancient, malevolent being? He couldn't say. All he knew was that the creature had an overwhelming presence, its molten crown radiating an intense, oppressive heat.
"I am the first Azazel," the being declared, its voice carrying an unnatural weight. "I rule as this world's god of chaos. I have chosen to help you, lost soul. The heavens did not take you, nor did the hells. So, I will make you into something far more interesting."
What was he talking about? I'm still alive… right?
Mike's thoughts raced as he tried to process the being's words. But when he looked down at his hands—or rather, where his hands should have been—his mind went blank.
He had no body. No form.
"What's happening to me? Where's my body?!" He thrashed, or at least tried to, but there was nothing to move—just an empty, weightless existence. Frantic, he looked back up at the dark god, hoping for some kind of answer.
Azazel let out a low chuckle, stepping closer. A large, clawed hand reached out and seized him, and for the first time, Mike felt something—pressure.
"You have died, lost soul," the god said, his grip tightening. "And I have come to make you an offer. One that allows me to repay an old debt… and gives you a chance to build something grander than you could ever imagine."
Even without a body, Mike could feel the being's strength crushing him. Fear settled deep in his core.
"Help me… how?" he managed to choke out.
Azazel's response was swift. "First, I will grant you a new body—a new life, a new name. Then, I will send you to a world where you can leave your mark."
Mike hesitated. "And how does that help you? No offense, but you don't exactly look like the generous type."
The moment the words left his mouth, Azazel's grip tightened painfully.
"Watch yourself, mortal," the god warned, his voice laced with quiet menace. "I can be generous… just as I can be cruel." After a long, agonizing moment, the pressure eased slightly. "Most of the gods of chaos in this world perished in the last great war. The gods of earth spared me, and I am repaying one of them—with you."
Before Mike could question further, a searing heat engulfed him. It burned through his very soul, a sensation unlike anything he had ever known. And then—
Nothing.
The pain vanished, and for a brief, blissful moment, there was silence.
Then his eyes shot open.
Light flooded his vision, and he gasped, his chest rising and falling—his chest. His body. He had a body again.
At first, relief washed over him. He reached up, running his hands over his face, his arms, his torso. But as he took in his new form, confusion took over.
His skin was an icy shade of blue, smooth yet cool to the touch. His frame was slender, almost delicate, yet something about it felt… unnatural.
I stared down at my body—beautiful in a way that felt completely wrong. I was a man, so why did I look so… delicate? The only thing remotely masculine about me was the massive cock I now had, and even that looked strange. It was human-like but had an unusual ring wrapped around the middle, almost like those seen on horses. I guessed it was around nine or ten inches, but I wasn't sure.
Why was this the only "manly" part of me? My hips flared outward, almost like love handles, and my thighs were thick and soft. My feet were smaller than before—not necessarily a bad thing, but still strange. As I bent forward to get a better look at myself, my head suddenly felt heavier, throwing off my balance. I barely caught myself before falling face-first. Reaching up, I ran my hands over my head and felt something solid—horns. Sharp, curved, and undeniably real.
"I guess I'll have to look over my body later when I have time," I muttered to myself.
That's when it hit me—I had been so focused on myself that I had completely ignored the god before me. My stomach tightened as I hesitantly looked up.
"How exactly am I supposed to pay off your debt?" I asked.
Azazel responded without hesitation. "You will see. He has something planned for you." His molten eyes burned with finality. "This may be the last time we speak. Be careful—unlike me, the other gods are not so forgiving."